


The Sweetest Goodbye

by boltschick2612



Series: This Sweetest Goodbye Will Leave Me Alone In The Dark [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Colorado Avalanche, Established Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, Tampa Bay Lightning, Trade Deadline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-23 18:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltschick2612/pseuds/boltschick2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And with a tear in your eye, give me the sweetest goodbye that I ever could receive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Follow up to 'Alone In The Dark', and is told from Steve Downie's pov. Not true.

I never understood the importance some people place on sleeping in the same bed with someone. Never understood it. Sleep is that time when your body shuts off and your brain takes over, your reality being whatever your mind tells you that it is. When you're in that vulnerable state of semi-consciousness, your mind has no idea wither your laying alone in your own bed or curled up next to someone in theirs.

I had always pegged Steven as a rational enough person to realise this as well, but I should have known better. I should have known that while on the ice, he is ruled by his intellect, but the second he stepped foot on normal ground he became a creature of emotions that was ruled by his heart. You would think I would have known better after being with him for so many years.

Today started out normal enough. We had an early morning skate, after which Steven and I drove back to what we both considered "our" apartment, despite the fact that he was the one that picked it out, furnished it and paid for it. That was right after he signed with the Lightning and before we were together, and while I still have a place of my own, I hardly ever stay there anymore. On game days such as today, we usually spend the time between morning skate and the game at "our" apartment, attempting to get in a game day nap. "Attempting" being the key word, because real sleep was usually forgotten about in favor of more pleasurable activities , not that the lack of sleep in any way hampered Steven's performance on the ice. I don't know if it was the particularly hard skate we just had, or the stress of the upcoming trade deadline finally getting to me, but I was exhausted and just wanted to spend what little time we had before the game actually sleeping.

Somewhere around the second or third red light we came to on our drive home, I broke the tense silence we had both been riding in. "I think I'm going to sleep at my house this time, yeah?"

Steven said nothing, just kept his eyes narrowly trained on the road. We both hadn't been ourselves lately, but I guess that's what happens when you see your closest friends traded away. Sure, We've both been in the league long enough to know that players will come and players will go, but this time was different. After our miraculous season last year that stopped just short of the Stanley Cup Final, most people were surprised this season when the team crashed back down to earth. Hard and fast.

We all figured that a few bodies were going to be shipped out before trade deadline in order to make room for some new blood that could hopefully make a difference next year, but it still shocked us when Dominic was sent off, followed Kubina. Both were veteran guys essential to the core, and the feeling that no one was safe spread throughout the locker room. Bugsy was being highly touted as trade bait, but I knew better. With my contract due to be up at the end of the season, I knew I was next on the chopping block, should it come down to that. I think Steven knew it too, if only subconsciously.

We never spoke the words, maybe in an effort to avoid a jinx, or maybe just to avoid the emotions that came along with such heavy subject matter. We just continued on as we always did, all the while hoping that every one of our friends that was traded would be the last. It may have worked so far, but it sure was hell on the emotions. It was almost a full minute later when Steven responded to my causal comment about sleeping in my own bed.

"You don't want to be around me?"

 And dear God, out of the corner of my eye I could see his lower lip jut out as if he were a sulking child. I really didn't know what to even say, but Steven's next words took care of that for me. After he spoke the words, it felt like all the air had been stolen from my lungs and I couldn't have said anything even if I did know what to say.

"You haven't slept at your own apartment since..."

He let his words trail off because he didn't want to hear himself say it, I think. As soon I could muster the strength, I finished his sentence for him, barely above a whisper and I'm still not even sure if he heard me. I almost hope he didn't.

"Since the night you kicked me out."

I instantly understood why Steven didn't want to utter those words, I nearly choked on them myself. I hated hearing those words outloud, but he was right. I hadn't spent more than a few hours in my apartment since that night long ago when Steven threw my keys at me and told me to "get the hell out." That seems like so long ago now, and a lot has changed, making that night just a horrible dream. I could still see the disappointment written on Steven's face, and I knew that breaking through his mood wasn't going to be easy. "It has nothing to do with that, Stam. I'm just really exhausted and need some real rest."

The pouting lip disappeared and was replaced by a tightly drawn frown. I could tell that he was going over what to say in his mind, the hesitation evident.

"What? You can't rest laying next to me? Do I make you that uneasy?"

Talk about fighting a losing battle. My frustration was growing, and I don't think I've ever seen Steven be this unreasonably upset. I knew my best option was just to sit there and say nothing, but the words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.

"God, you're such a girl sometimes."

I looked over in his direction to see his muscles tense, his jaw clench, his hands tightly grip the steering wheel and.....

Oh. God. Did I ever say the wrong thing. For me to imply that Steven Motherfucking Stamkos was anything other than the master of the one-timer, woman loving, swag on skates that everyone thought him to be.....

Well, let's just say that I might as well have pulled out my cell phone right then and there and called Gary Bettman to tell him that not only was his leading goal scorer in love with another man, but that he was in desperate need of some Midol to boot. I could almost feel the heat emanating off Steven and I knew he was furious simply by his posture and the look in his eyes. His next words came through tightly clenched teeth and perhaps the most chilling thing was that he said it all without ever raising his voice.

"I hate you."

By sheer coincidence, we were stopped at a red light and without thinking I reached for the door handle and swung open the car door. I was completely on autopilot as I jumped out of the car, feeling the blades of grass crush under my shoes and without any hesitation, I just started walking. Steven never shouted after me, or made any attempt to stop me. I didn't even look back as the light turned green and he drove off.

That was at least fifteen minutes ago, and I keep thinking that I'm going to hear Steven's black Mercedes pull up behind me as I walk home, but I'm actually glad that I haven't. I'm sure that if we weren't right by my house when I decided to make my dramatic exit, or if I were walking down the street in the middle of the night instead of the safety of day, Steven would have turned right back around and forced me back into the car. Although we  _were_ only a short distance from my place, my lungs are still burning and my legs are on fire. I've never been so happy to be back to a place that I don't even consider home.

I can't get the front door unlocked fast enough, it is blazing hot outside and I desperately need to lay down, although I'm not sure how easy I'll be able to rest with the events of the past hour weighing on my mind. I step through the doorway and relish in the sensation of the cool air sweeping across me, sending goosbumps across my sweat slicked skin.

I start walking to the bedroom to lay down when my phone rings in my pocket. I figure it must be Steven, and I debate wither I want to talk to him. I fish the phone out and glance at the screen as I bring it to my ear, but the name displayed causes me to stop dead. It's not Steven. Well, not the one I was expecting it to be, anyways. It's Steve Yzerman, and I know exactly why he's calling. I answer the phone, and his monotone voice flows over me but the conversation doesn't register. I somehow retain the essential facts of the call, though I'm not sure how. I can pick up my things from the Forum before the game tonight, and I'm to report to Colorado tomorrow morning. I disconnect, both literally and mentally, before we're even finished talking.

I don't remember walking over to the couch and sitting down, but I find myself there none the less. I look around and am amazed by how empty, how lonely it feels here now. Am I going to be living in a place just like this soon? A place just as empty and lonely, except thousands of miles away from everything I love? The thought of being so far away from everyone...from  Steven...sends my mind reeling and a pressure builds in my chest and....

I can-  
I can't-  
Can't breathe-

Oh, God. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

I'm drowning....I feel like I'm drowning....

Breathe, Steve. You have to breathe.  
I have to breathe. Have to stop my head from spinning....

I have to get out of here.

 

 

                                                                                                -X-

 

  
After I pull myself together enough to move, I leave my place and drive to "our" apartment. Well, I guess it's only Steven's apartment now. He is gone when I got here, as I knew he would be. I let myself in and wearily stumble to the arm chair in the corner of the living room. I settle into the chair, the familiar furniture and surroundings instantly bring me comfort. Letting my eyes slide closed, I let the day run through my mind and find that I can't even remember what we had been fighting about this afternoon. All I can think about is how I'll never be back here again, never be in this familiar place with it's familiar furniture. Life will never be the same...

 

 

                                                                                                   -X-

 

  
I'm jolted awake by what sounds like keys hitting the tile floor. I didn't even realize that I had dozed off in the living room chair and...

Oh. Maybe it was all a dream? Please God, let this all have been a dream.

I hear footsteps in the front hall, and I know it's Steven. My heart pounds at the anticipation of seeing his face again, and my voice catches in my throat, at a loss for words. He moves to the kitchen and the dim light there illuminates Steven's features, casting an ethereal glow.

As soon as I notice his tear streaked face and red, bloodshot eyes, I know that this is no dream. This is a nightmare. I choke back tears of my own as I open my mouth to speak and make my presence known.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming home."

I step out of darkness of the living room, and into the subdued light of the kitchen. As soon as I'm within Steven's reach, he pulls me close to him, wrapping his arms so tight around me that I have to gasp for air. I pull back after a moment and the words began to pour from his mouth as if a dam broke.

"I was sure you were already in Colorado, and I'd never see you again... and you hated me... and the last thing I said was...."

I don't need to hear any more, I can't hear anymore. I stop the flow of words with my mouth pressed to his, and my heart pounds as I'm overtaken my the sensation. I reluctantly break the kiss, not wanting it to end. I don't ever want this to end. I know Steven must be distraught over things he said, things we both said and I can't leave these things weighing on his beautiful mind. I gently whisper to him as I take his hand into mine.

"I know. I know you didn't mean it. I know you love me, and I know that I love you. That's all that matters."

I feel something warm and wet as I run my thumb over the top of his hand, and he winces in pain. I look down at the hand that was cradled in mine to see gashes spreading across the pale skin on the top of his hand. I don't have to ask what happened, I know Steven well and I know without a doubt that somewhere in the Forum there was now a broken window or mirror, perhaps even the window of Steven's own car was the victim of his intense emotions.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his tears. I gently put a hand to his cheek and wipe away a freshly shed tear with my thumb. I tell him I have to leave in the morning, and then lean forward to press another kiss to his soft lips.

We move to the bedroom without any words, there are none to be said. Any words would just cheapen our last moments together. My mind is wrapped in a haze, everything is so surreal. There's bare skin brushing against bare skin, fingertips catching errant strands of hair, lips eagerly seeking each other out. The whole thing seems to last forever, yet not long enough at the same time. Before I know it, it's over and we're laying wrapped in each other's arms and basking in the moment, one of the last we'll have together. I push Steven's hair behind his ear and whisper to him.

"I understand it now."

I know that sleep had already started to take Steven, because he doesn't ask what I mean, he simply lets out a small sigh. How could I have never understood what was so important about laying and holding the one you love, watching them sleep before closing your eyes and succumbing to the peace yourself?

Laying here now, we are so close, yet I still feel the loneliness starting to settle around my heart. The silence is deafening in a way I've never experienced before, and it feels like a hand is closing around my neck as the realization of what's to come settles into my brain.

I'm overtaken by the feeling of emptiness, and I wonder....

Is that going to be my life from now on?

Empty and alone?


End file.
